


Ghosts of Your Touch

by Cyberbulky



Category: Original Work
Genre: Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Gay Poems, Hands, I’m very gay, Love, Love Poems, Original Poem, Poetry, artist, original - Freeform, pretty girl, soft, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberbulky/pseuds/Cyberbulky
Summary: A poem written about a girl with pretty hands.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Ghosts of Your Touch

Even long before   
I knew I was capable of loving you,  
Your hands were more beautiful  
Than any other pair.

I remember when we were small;  
Your hair was long   
And your glasses small-framed.  
I would watch in awe   
As you made mini-masterpieces.

You would drag a wooden pencil to make small doodles on worksheets   
And I would silently admire  
The way your fingers curled   
Around the worn corner of that page.  
The tranquility of your stilled fingers,  
Motionless and poised,  
Being the most distracting sight  
In a chaos stricken room.

Every time I find myself  
Studying the hands of another,  
I find myself thinking of you.  
My mind carries me to the image  
Of you imperfect hands,   
With your short-cut nails  
And feeling of warmth.

I’m not quite sure how  
Something can look warm,  
But my mind makes an exception for you.  
Just the thought of your ample palms  
Leaves ghosts of your touch   
Up and down my arms.

The last time I studied you hands,  
We were not much younger than we are now.  
We were surrounded by others,  
But that moment, there was no one but us.  
And I watched as you wrote small messages,  
Just for me,  
In the margins of that college flyer.  
Your hair was shorter,  
And you glasses much larger,  
But it felt all the same as before. 

As you leaned closer to me,  
And your eager knuckles brushed against  
My frigid fingers,  
I reveled in the warmth I had longed for.  
When I met your knowing gaze,   
I filled with regret  
As I did not take your hand in mine   
And hold it with a decade filled of admiration.

Instead I smiled   
And looked away.  
The beauty of your presence  
Had always felt unreachable   
And untouchable.  
I find myself betting pennies,  
But dreaming of winning millions.

So for now I’ll stay without you,  
Basking in the ghosts of gentle hands,  
But wondering what could be  
If I threaded our fingers together  
And held my most treasured remembrance  
Delicately.

-J

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the poem :)


End file.
